


Midnight Talker

by buckysbears (DrZebra)



Series: Disability December 2017 [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: ADHD Character, ADHD Daisy, Autistic Character, Autistic Jemma, Fluff, Gen, sometime after the chitarui virus but before all the other shit, takes place in s1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 19:39:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13038015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrZebra/pseuds/buckysbears
Summary: Because what the crowning hour of three a.m. needs is a coffee, obviously.





	Midnight Talker

**Author's Note:**

> for aosficnet's disability december 
> 
> prompt asked for adhd daisy. and i threw in autistic jemma because ... i can't help myself

Skye scrambles to catch her laptop as her jump and shriek sends it flying off her crossed legs. Jemma dives for it as well, and there’s a beat of stillness after they both catch it on its way to the floor of the command center. Then Jemma starts babbling an apology, and Skye rushes to assuage her.

“No, I- I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jemma is saying, pushing the laptop back firmly into Skye’s lap. “I called your name a few times, but you didn’t seem to hear me.”

“Sorry, yeah.” Skye sets the laptop on the table beside her—which she really shouldn’t be sitting on, but A.C. wasn’t around to catch her—and rubs at her strained eyes. “Just got focused.”

“I can see that.” Jemma smiles nervously, scrunching her nose a bit.

Hands falling to her lap, Skye gives Jemma an up-and-down, smiling tiredly at her atomic-patterned pajamas. “Turning in early? That’s not a bad idea.”

Jemma’s hands fiddle in front of her, and she shakes her head minutely. “Um. No. Just got … woken up by something, actually. It’s … It’s three in the morning, Skye.”

“What?” Skye responds, not really processing the words. She glances toward her computer, but the time isn’t displayed, the whole screen being taken up by code.

“Did you not notice the lights going off four hours ago?” Jemma asks.

Skye looks around, and sure enough, only the low, ambient lights have been left on in the room, just enough to let her see without straining too hard. “No,” she admits. “Have I really been in here that long?”

Jemma opens her mouth, seems to think better of it, and then says anyway, “Please don’t take offense to this, but … when was the last time you showered?”

Skye blinks at the question, and then lifts her shirt to sniff it.

“You don’t smell!” Jemma hastens to say, raising her hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply- It’s just, I usually keep track of when people are using the showers, which I realize is somewhat peculiar, I just- I like knowing where people are, and it’s not hard to pick up on the patterns when you’re living in such close quarters as this- I don’t mean to be creepy, I’m really not- well, I just noticed you usually shower every other night, which would have been last night, but you went to your room after the mission yesterday and didn’t come back out until this morning. I don’t mean to pry or anything. I was just wondering if you were doing okay. Not that not showering means you’re not doing okay, it’s just that people breaking their routines can sometimes be symptomatic of an underlying issue ... and …” Jemma shakes her head. “I’m sorry. This is weird. I’m being weird. I’ll stop. Goodnight.”

Jemma turns to leave, and Skye manages to keep in her laugh for fear of offending her, but doesn’t quite manage to hold back the grin.

“Simmons,” she says, reaching out and catching her sleeve. Jemma turns back, eyebrows knit with worry. “It’s okay. Seriously. As long as it’s not because I smell.”

“It’s not,” Jemma swears.

“I’ve just been …” Skye tries to figure out how to explain, letting her hand drop. “Kind of having trouble with a lot of steps lately? Like, for most people showering is one step—take a shower—and for others it’s a few steps, like ‘get in the shower, wash, condition, rinse, get out’. But for me it seems like a whole lot of little steps—turn on the shower, undress, check the water, get in, shampoo, rinse, condition, etc. etc. … All the little steps get overwhelming sometimes. And that mission wore me out so much, I just didn’t have the brain function for it. Or anything else.”

“Executive dysfunction,” Jemma says, nodding. “That makes sense. A lot of people with ADHD get that.” Then she catches herself, eyes widening. “Sorry! I’m not supposed to make guesses about people, Fitz said it puts people off.” She gives a self-conscious laugh. “I am really not doing well tonight. I should just stop talking.”

“It’s okay,” Skye says. “I am ADHD, if you were wondering.”

Jemma gives a nervous grin, hands knitting in front of her. “I figured. I’m usually pretty good at telling. But people seem to not like it when you say it. Especially if they didn’t know.”

“Well, I did know, so all good.”

Jemma nods, glancing away. “Um. Will you be off to bed, then?”

“I should,” Skye says, rubbing her eyes again. “I’ll probably make a coffee.”

“This late?” Jemma asks, face creasing in concern. “Staying up all night isn’t good for you. The brain refreshes itself during sleep, without at least a few hours—”

“I was gonna go to bed,” Skye assures her, holding up a hand. “Coffee knocks me out. It’s the only way I’m going to fall asleep after staring at my laptop for so long.”

“Oh.” The look of concern doesn’t go away. “That can’t be healthy.”

Skye shrugs. “It works.”

Jemma’s brows pull together. “I—” Her lips flicker into a smile. “I could make you a hot chocolate instead.”

Skye considers the offer, and Jemma continues, “I was going to make a cup of tea anyways, so it’s not any trouble. And if you don’t fall asleep, then maybe we could stay up and chat for a little while.”

Skye nods. “Okay. That sounds nice.”

“Oh.” Jemma gives a started grin, obviously not having anticipated that Skye would agree. “Okay. Excellent.”

Skye shuts down her laptop and they make their way to the little kitchen. Jemma starts heating the water on the stove (and is very offended when Skye asks why she doesn’t heat it in the microwave). As they wait for the water to heat, they both lean against the counter, Skye foggy and tired, and Jemma lost in her thoughts.

Eventually, Skye asks, “Something woke you up?” having just then processed the statement.

Jemma blinks, turning to her. “What?”

“You said earlier that something woke you up. It wasn’t me, was it?”

“No,” Jemma says. “It was nothing.”

Skye studies the side of her face as Jemma looks away. “Nightmares?”

Jemma’s lips thin.

“I hear you come out of your room a lot in the middle of the night. Have you been having them often?”

“I didn’t realize anyone had noticed,” Jemma says quietly.

“I’m usually up anyway,” Skye says. “I’m not a great sleeper.”

Jemma doesn’t answer or look at her, so Skye says, “Have they been bothering you a lot?”

“It’s not important,” Jemma mumbles.

“Sure it is.”

Jemma’s hand floats up to her neck, thumb rubbing along the side. “Ever since the Chitauri virus I just … haven’t been sleeping very well. It’s silly, really.”

Skye isn’t sure she could convince her otherwise, so instead she says, “Well, how about the next time you’re up, I’ll let you make me another hot chocolate?”

She nudges her, and Jemma looks over with a small smile.

“I don’t want to bother you.”

“I’m already up most of the time. I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” And then, on an afterthought, “Well … it depends on how good your hot chocolate is.”

That gets a little laugh out of Jemma, which Skye is pretty proud of.

“I do know where Fitz’s stash of mini marshmallows is,” Jemma admits.

“Then next time you’re up, you bring the marshmallows, and I’ll bring my charming, groggy personality.”

“Okay,” Jemma says, stifling her smile. “It’s a deal.”

-

Skye wanders out of her room two days later, a yawn trapped behind her lips and her finger stuck in the bun she was trying to make in her hair. After she manages the bun, she wanders into the kitchen and, without looking, mutters, “You were supposed to come get me.”

But Jemma is already waiting with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, marshmallows and all.

**Author's Note:**

> if you send me some disability december prompts i will try my best to get to them before the month is up! on my tumblr buckysbears


End file.
